


with those who know secret things

by sdwolfpup



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brienne is the sex worker, Canon Disabled Character, Dominant Brienne, Explicit Consent, F/M, Oral Sex, Sex Work, Submissive Jaime, Vaginal Sex, brief moments of self-directed ableism, past Jaime/Cersei though she is his stepsister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwolfpup/pseuds/sdwolfpup
Summary: He'd found a website that wasn't all flashing text and hardcore porn ads – he'd honestly thought it was for a spa at first – and he'd looked at the photos of men and women in various states of undress, their faces blurred, until he'd found exactly what he wanted.That had been the easiest part of all of this. Their names and basic services had been listed under each photo:Flower, male submissive; Rose, pain play; Mistress A, humiliation and kinky role play. And then the one that he'd contacted:Blue, dominant services.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 42
Kudos: 265
Collections: The Exchange that was Promised: Jaime x Brienne Smut Swap 2021





	with those who know secret things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SimoneBlack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimoneBlack/gifts).



> SimoneBlack, I picked this prompt for you: "Dominant brienne. Please! And submissive jaime who wants to let go. I've really been interested in Brienne as a sex worker. Also confident brienne." And I also kept in mind your note that you wanted "hot scenes with emotional build up. A JB sex scene has to feel earned. Even if it's a one night stand." This was a really fun set-up to write, thank you for the prompt!
> 
> Title from this quote by Rainer Maria Rilke: “I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone.” 
> 
> Beta notes after the reveals.
> 
> **ETA post-reveals:** When this smutkeepers pinch hit request came in, the sex worker Brienne prompt grabbed me right away, even though I wasn't sure when I first got it what exactly I would do with it, but I knew it would combine well with dominant Brienne. Once I got the outline of the idea sketched, it came together quickly. Which was good given the impending deadline. :) I actually started this fic in Brienne's POV initially but once I figured out why Jaime was hiring her, I knew it had to be in his, and it flowed really easily from there. My thanks to forbiddenfantasies (cheerleader services & enthusiasm) and Brynn (beta services & enthusiasm) as always.

Jaime hadn't expected this to be so... professional. Part of that was due to the distorted lens of his upbringing, to TV and movies, to his own lack of experience. But part of it was because he was hiring someone for _sex_ and sex had never been about his rational brain. 

Which helped explain how he'd been in a deeply unpleasant relationship with his stepsister for so many years without realizing all the ways it was wrong. 

But now he was single, nearly forty, down a hand, and – apparently – hiring a sex worker. 

“You need to get laid,” Tyrion had been telling him for months. “Go bat your pretty eyes at some woman in a bar and be done with it.” 

Jaime had tried, but it had felt all wrong. Too much like a hunt where he was expected to drag his prey home to devour them. It wasn't at all what he wanted, and he'd left the bar the same way he'd entered it: sober and alone.

He hadn't trusted Tyrion to be sympathetic or helpful, and Jaime was too wound up to deal with the gentle prodding of his few remaining friends, so he'd turned to the internet. After that, it had been surprisingly painless. He'd found a website that wasn't all flashing text and hardcore porn ads – he'd honestly thought it was for a spa at first – and he'd looked at the photos of men and women in various states of undress, their faces blurred, until he'd found exactly what he wanted. 

That had been the easiest part of all of this. Their names and basic services had been listed under each photo: _Flower, male submissive; Rose, pain play; Mistress A, humiliation and kinky role play_. And then the one that he'd contacted: _Blue, dominant services._

Regardless of her colorful nickname, her picture had been in black and white and more artistic than the rest. She was turned away from the camera, shadows cloaking her body so all he could make out were pinpoints of light – the round circles of her broad shoulders, the faint cresting hills of her buttocks, the long line of her calves tensed and strong. In still life, even with no way to see her face, she exuded a serene confidence and coiled power. He'd clicked _Contact_ with no hesitation. 

There was more hesitation now that he was here in the hotel room she'd had him rent for the night. If anyone found out Jaime Lannister was paying for sex, he wasn't sure they'd ever let him live it down. Of course, he wasn't sure they'd even believe him. 

“Everything comes so easy to you,” Tyrion had been fond of telling him before the accident. “You've never had to fight for anything in your life.” 

On the darkest nights of his recovery, Jaime had wondered if Tyrion was secretly glad that Jaime had lost his hand. It was mean-spirited, but he couldn't quite shake free of it. Tyrion was too much a Lannister for his sincerity to be trusted. 

Jaime checked his phone again, _7:58_. He still had two minutes to change his mind, though Blue's contract indicated that he could stop at any time, and so could she. She was very diligent in her terms. Payment would be provided up front after an initial in-person discussion, he'd had to go through her very thorough and occasionally squirm-inducing checklist ahead of time, and she would provide all condoms, lube, and toys – only the last of which was optional. 

“If you cannot agree to these terms, Mr. Lannister,” she'd said in a clipped and assured voice during their introductory phone call, “then I can direct you to another service provider.” 

“Service provider?” he'd said on a laugh. “Is that how they identify you on Yelp?” 

Blue had simply answered, “Yes,” the no-nonsense tone bringing him up short. He'd agreed to her terms. 

There was a knock on the door, short and sharp. He felt faint suddenly, dizzy, and rubbed his sweaty palm on his thighs. He checked his phone again – _8:00_. Exactly on time. 

_Treat it like a big presentation_ , he told himself, and he took a deep breath from his stomach, focusing on the air expanding his rib cage, pictured his nervousness dissipating on his exhale. With his most charming smile in place, he opened the door. 

“Oh,” he said, when presented with Blue in person. “That's why they call you that.” 

The eyes from which she clearly got her name crinkled a little when she smiled. “That's one of the nicer knee-jerk responses I've ever heard, Mr. Lannister,” she said in the voice he remembered from the phone. It was warmer in person, a little deeper with her amusement. “May I come in?” 

Jaime stepped aside and gestured with his stump for her to enter – she glanced at it and said nothing – and she walked past him with easy athleticism. She wore dark jeans and a leather jacket fastened high, carried a nondescript gray duffel bag and a searching gaze as she looked around the hotel room. When her posture relaxed a little after a minute, he realized she'd been preparing for the worst and felt a sick knot in his stomach. 

“Can I, uh, get you something to drink?” he asked, shutting the door. He hesitated over the deadbolt and then left it unlatched. 

“Water, please,” she said. As he struggled to open one of the water bottles from the mini fridge, she set down her bag on the armchair and started undoing her jacket. It gave him a chance to watch her more surreptitiously. She was bigger than he'd expected from the photo – taller than him, and broader, too, with a freckled face made of parts that didn't quite fit. Not that anyone should care with eyes like those. Though blue was technically the color, it was much too faint of a description. He wasn't sure there was a word for the color they were. 

Those eyes flicked his way as she undid the last button of her jacket, the sides falling open to reveal a plain white, scoop-necked cotton shirt underneath. Casual, just as he'd indicated. 

_Nothing fancy_ he'd typed awkwardly into his checklist. _This isn't a business dinner or a date. Jeans and a t-shirt are fine._

It was what he was wearing, too, though he felt now like he should have dressed up more. Ah well, he didn't intend to be wearing clothes for long anyway. 

She lifted the water bottle out of his hand as he stared at her, and his cheeks warmed. “Thank you,” she said, taking a long drink, her neck elegant when she tipped it back to swallow. Freckles spilled down the pale length, disappearing beneath her shirt. Heat simmered in his belly. She licked her overly-large lips and capped the bottle. “Why don't we sit down?” 

“Ladies first.” She gave him that small, amused smile again and sat in the armchair, so Jaime took the edge of the bed. “Well.” _They don't teach you this at Toastmasters_ , he thought, wiping his palm along his pants again. At least the stump didn't get clammy. 

Blue rested her hands on her thighs, her fingers stretching over the fabric like rays of light in a medieval painting. “This part is awkward for everyone, Mr. Lannister, don't worry.”

“I'm not--” he started and then shook his head a little. The whole point of hiring this woman was because he didn't want to have to hold himself up to some impossible standard. He wouldn't start with a lie. “That's good to know.” 

“May I call you Jaime?” 

“Please do,” he said, startled. “I'm not Mr. Lannister even when people do call me that.” 

Blue nodded, folded her hands together in a way that reminded him of his therapist. “You can call me Blue,” she said. 

“That's not your real name.” He regretted it as soon as he said it, the tiny line that appeared on her smooth, pale brow. 

“It's what you can call me,” she repeated and he quickly nodded. “What do you do for a living?” 

Small talk. That was unexpected, too. “I work for my father's insurance company. It's not an honest day's work, but it pays well,” he said, the tart bitterness familiar. 

“Maybe I should ask you to pay me in health insurance premiums,” she said dryly, and Jaime was surprised into a loud laugh. 

“That would have to be more than one night's work.” She wasn't offended, just grinned a little and leaned back in the chair. He relaxed further, too. “I'd ask what you do, but...”

Blue rolled her eyes, but it didn't feel mean-spirited. “Someday a client won't follow up with that to my question, but it hasn't happened yet.” 

“It's the natural give-and-take of conversation. Though I admit I'm disappointed not to be special.” 

“I didn't say that,” she said, arching one eyebrow, a perfect pale crescent moon over deep blue sea.

Jaime knew it was all part of the game, but he felt pleased by it anyway. “What question do you wish a client would ask you, then?” 

Blue's easy smile slipped, a fraction of a second, before she shrugged. “That one's pretty good.” She took another drink of water while he watched; he saw a drop of condensation from the bottle land on her chest, a damp mark on the cotton of her shirt. From what he could see, her breasts were small and he wondered if she were wearing a bra. That prompted a weird tilt-a-whirl of embarrassment at his puerile thoughts and the eager recollection that he was here explicitly to discover that. 

“When do I pay you?” he asked abruptly and Blue lifted both brows this time. 

“Typically the client and I talk for a minimum of half an hour, and if we're both still comfortable with the arrangement, they pay then.”

“I'm comfortable now,” he said with less bluster than he'd normally use. “What about you?”

Blue studied him, trailed one blunt fingernail over her water bottle. Jaime wanted her to take off her jacket at least; just based on the hint of her body under its bulk, he'd be happy paying for that privilege alone. “I don't like to hurry this part,” she said, setting her water bottle on the end table. “People are on their best behavior in the first five minutes.” 

“That's fine,” Jaime said hurriedly. “We have all night, and gods know I won't last that long.” 

Blue tugged her lip between her teeth, but he didn't miss the way the ends of her mouth were curled with laughter. “I was going to say that I feel comfortable now, too, though,” she managed after a moment, and Jaime chuckled ruefully. 

“Restraint is not my superpower,” he explained and her eyes narrowed a little, like she was storing that information away. She probably was, based on what else he'd noted on his checklist. _I want to let go_ he'd typed, deleted, then re-typed. His thigh tensed under his hand. “How do we do this? The payment.” 

She walked him through it: the money left on the desk, her quick rifling through it to ensure it was all there. The peeling off of her jacket that revealed a tank top that left the shoulders from her photo bare to his eyes. Jaime inhaled sharply at the way her muscles twisted with the movement, the way the freckles rolled on top of them like riding an ocean wave. 

He wasn't going to have a problem getting an erection at least. He'd been worried about that. “Now what?” he asked, struggling for casual again. 

Blue tilted her head. “We could talk more, if you want. Or move on to other things if you'd rather do that. The night is yours, Jaime.” 

He liked the way she spoke, the quiet confidence, the way it filled the space without being demanding. But he was also very interested in doing more than talking, and soon. 

“We could do both at once,” he suggested and instead of laughing at his greed, or trying to change his mind, she nodded. 

“I'd like that,” she said, stepping nearer. “You had specific requests in your checklist. Do you recall them?”

_Command me. I've only ever been with one woman. Tell me what to do._ Gods, he'd spilled everything onto that wretched form. 

“Yes,” he whispered. Nearer, without the pungent scent of the leather, he could smell _her_ , fresh and unassuming and steady. No unexpected floral notes, no hints of dangerous nights. She smelled like an early summer day, when it was comforting and warm and the promise of heat lay ahead. 

“Do you still want those things?” 

Jaime was already on edge but Blue was calm, and he appreciated it. It made him trust her. 

“I do,” he said from the burning need in his stomach, and she rubbed one hand down his uninjured arm. It was the briefest of touches, but he trembled all the same. 

“Good. Remember: I won't hurt you, and I'll check in with you periodically. If you want to slow down or stop, say yellow or red, but you can also use your safe word. Tell me what it was again.”

_Pick something easy to say, meaningful, and that you would never otherwise say in bed_ , her instructions had directed. He'd struggled to come up with something and now that he had to say it out loud, it felt childish. Like he was seven again and playing princesses with Cersei. 

“Honor,” he told her. 

Her eyes crinkled with approval, and the warmth of it flowed into his chest, settling there. “That's a good one. Do you need any accommodations?”

He stared down at his uncovered stump, the tissue that had paled to pink and white at the end of his much darker arm, and then glanced back up at her. She was looking at it, too, curious and concerned. “I honestly don't know. Since the accident, I haven't...” 

Jaime flushed, but Blue only gave an authoritative nod and rubbed his injured arm, lifting her hand before she neared his wrist. Goosebumps followed in her path. “Then it's extra important that you tell me if something feels wrong. Not just if it hurts, but if you don't like it or it upsets you. The only thing I require of you is your honesty, Jaime. Can you give me that?” 

“Yes,” he said, with a certainty that should have been unthinkable considering how little he knew her and that he was a Lannister. 

“Good. Are you ready? Do you need to use the bathroom or prepare?” 

Jaime blinked. It was such a mundane request. “I probably should. Do you want to go first?”

“Sure.” She disappeared into the bathroom and he hovered around the room, tugging the comforter down and then pulling it back up so he didn't look too eager. He was just about to pull it down again when she emerged, holding her shoes in one hand. Beat-up white sneakers, just like someone would wear for jogging in the park. She must jog, or go to the gym, with a body like hers. _What kind of schedule does a sex provider have?_ he wondered. 

“Your turn,” she said gently and Jaime shook himself a little, hurried past her to the bathroom. When he was done, his hands washed and smelling of coconut soap, his heart pounding, he emerged to find her sitting on the bed. She'd laid condoms and lube on the end table. The comforter was pulled down. 

“Ready?” she asked. 

“I think so. Yes. I'm ready.” 

“Take off your shirt.” The volume of her voice was exactly the same, but the pitch of it, the natural command, thundered through him. He pulled his shirt off and bunched it in his hand. T-shirts were so much easier with one hand; he wore them every second he wasn't at work. Blue smiled at him. “You were quick to respond.” 

She'd been a shadowy partner in his dreams since he'd found her, but that felt too vulnerable to admit. “I'm a good listener,” he went with instead, adding a charming grin. 

Blue hummed a note of gentle patience. “We'll see.” She stood and came around the bed to stand in front of him. He tilted his chin up to meet her eyes. All of her was compelling, though, from the hair curling short at the nape of her neck down to her large feet. “You're very handsome, you know.” 

He flushed, though he had no idea why. People had been ogling Jaime all his life; there was no reason this tall woman with the direct stare and soothing voice should be any different. “I know,” he said, grasping for cockiness. 

“In my experience, handsome men are terrible listeners.” 

“Those men weren't me.” 

Blue's eyes flashed. “That sounds exactly like something they'd say.” 

“But the difference is that _they_ would be wrong.” 

She smirked, and it made the twist in her broken nose turn more sharply. She dragged one finger between his pecs and Jaime tried not to lean into the touch, but he could tell she knew he was holding back. “Do you like to be touched, Jaime?” 

“Yes,” he breathed. 

Her finger stopped just above his navel, and when she pulled her hand away he swayed towards her. “But you aren't touched often,” she said, warm as a lazy afternoon. He listened for mockery, but there was none, just a fact, stated with quiet empathy. 

“No.” 

Blue placed her palm – studded with smoothed-down calluses and cooler than he expected – over his heart. “Do you want me to touch you tonight?” 

“Yes,” he said, already desperate. Her palm moved across his chest, tickling the hairs, down his ribs where it rested on his hip. 

“Take off my shirt.” 

He did, with less awkwardness than he'd feared, revealing more pale and shining skin, more freckles, more muscle and heat and her two pink nipples. _No bra_. He licked his lips and looked to Blue for what was next. She took her shirt and tossed it aside in a move that delighted him with its carelessness. She did not seem like a careless woman. 

“You can touch me, too, as much as you want,” she assured him. “But stop when I tell you. Can you do that?” 

“Yes.” 

“I know you can.” She was shining with her belief in him, this woman he'd known thirty minutes, and he glowed from her reflected light. 

He swept his thumb over one nipple, felt it harden under the pad of his finger. “Can I use my mouth?”

On her assent, he took one onto his tongue and earned her low moan. She rubbed her own palms over his shoulders, down his back. Her long arms meant she could reach all the way to the waistband of his pants, her fingertips sliding underneath to press into the top of his ass as he sucked and nipped at her, licked a line between her breasts and tasted the delicate skin at her sternum. Her hands were no longer cool. 

Neither was he. Open-mouthed and sloppy, he made his way up her chest to her neck, closed his teeth gently around the tendon there. She hissed, her grip tightening, but she didn't tell him to stop. He lingered at her jaw, sucked at the soft flesh that gathered at the corner, pressed their chests together until their breathing was in time. He wanted to kiss her generous mouth, but the contract had been explicit about that. 

_No kissing on the lips, under any circumstance. If you kiss me, I will end our encounter immediately._

Jaime was only getting started. 

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked, gratifyingly breathless. 

“What?” He nuzzled into the curve of her shoulder, tasted each individual freckle. 

“You said you wanted to do this _and_ talk.” 

“I was naive,” he grunted and she laughed a little, her body shaking against his hand. 

“Take off your pants and lie down on the bed,” she said, but he continued his path down to her shoulder and she put her hand on his chest, pushing him back. It didn't seem to require much effort. “Jaime, I gave you an order.” 

His mouth moved, wanting more of her, but her tone compelled him and he did as she said, lying down on his back in only his underwear. She towered over him from the foot of the bed, half-naked and serene except for the flush coalescing in her chest, on her cheeks. Blue put her hands on her hips and studied him. 

“Far too handsome,” she murmured and he grinned at her. She shook her head with a playfully stern look. “From now on you'll listen when I tell you the first time. That's still what you want?”

“Yes,” he said in a rush. It was all he'd ever wanted – to let someone else take control, to trust they wouldn't lead him somewhere dark he couldn't come back from. 

“Let's begin.”

“I thought we had?” 

“Oh, Jaime,” she sighed, fond. 

His cock was already pulsing, but when Blue knelt down, straddling his legs, he got harder still. She rubbed the heel of her palm in deep strokes along his length and he grabbed the sheets with his hand, his stump rubbing fruitlessly in circles. 

“Fuck,” he panted, already so close his hips were making tiny, aborted thrusts. 

“Don't come until I tell you to,” Blue said. Her marvelous eyes were intent on his face, watching him with such care tears sprung to his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Jaime nodded and exhaled shakily. “You might want to stop that though.” 

Blue chuckled and eased the pressure, moving in light strokes that were almost soothing. “What do you like to do for fun?” 

“This is pretty good.” She made a face, adorable even with her mismatched features, and he laughed. He'd never laughed in bed before. There had only ever been Cersei, and what they had had never been light. “Work out, I guess.”

“One of _those_.” Her fingers lingered at the head of his cock, and he wanted desperately for her to remove his underwear, to feel those rough hands directly on his sensitive skin. He trusted she would, when the time was right. 

“I like running mostly. In the morning, when the city is quiet.” 

“Me, too. What else?”

She cupped his balls with her other hand, fondling them, and he stuttered through his answer, “The zoo.” 

Her hands stilled. “What?”

“I like the zoo.” He moved his hips a little, and she picked up again. “I like seeing the animals.” 

“That's... unexpected.”

“Handsome men can't like the zoo?” 

She ran her hands up to his hips and hooked her fingers in the band of his underwear. “No,” she said, then tugged them down, his cock bobbing free. Jaime's relieved sigh turned into a sharp cry when she took him in her firm grip. It was even better than he'd hoped, her hand sure and strong as she shifted and slid the skin of his cock, swiped her thumb where he was leaking. After a few blissful strokes she rolled a condom down the length and he stared at it, mystified. 

Blue snorted. “I'm good at opening them one-handed.” 

“You should teach me that.” He waved his stump at her and her lips twitched, but whatever response he expected, instead she bent down and took him in her mouth and he let out a wail of surprised pleasure. “Holy-- _fuck_.” 

Blue nodded and took him deeper and Jaime stared up at the ceiling, scrabbling for control. She released him and air rushed over his spit-slick shaft. “Prop yourself up with pillows so I can watch you.” She tongued at his slit through the latex as he did what she commanded, shoving and squirming until the pillows were an uncomfortable heap under his head and upper back. 

She inclined her head at the pile. “Do you want to fix that?”

“Nope,” he told her, greedy to continue. Mercifully, she wrapped her lips around his cock-head and worked them down inch by torturous inch until he was quivering under the hands that were tight on his hips. Anticipation gathered at the base of his spine, but he fought it back, thighs tense and shaking. “Blue, I-- I'm--” 

She immediately stilled, his cock throbbing in the wet heat of her mouth, her tongue pressed flat against him. He took in great, gulping breaths. His fingers ached from where they were wrapped in the sheet. Cersei's blowjobs had always been demanding, done with the intent of reciprocation from him. He would have feasted on her gladly either way, but she'd always treated their sex as a trade-off. 

Jaime met Blue's unwavering gaze and had to look away before he came just from the consideration there. She let him go and propped her chin on his thigh. “You're doing great, Jaime,” she murmured and he shuddered with relief. 

She stood, keeping one hand on his body as she took off her pants. All his awareness was in the ridged press of her palm, her thumb digging into his side as she fought to keep her balance. “This is a lot harder one-handed,” she mused and he smirked. It was refreshing to be in on the joke for a change. _No underwear, either_ , he noted as she stepped out of her jeans, kicking them behind her. 

“Your home must be a mess,” he said, pointing at her clothes on the floor. 

“You have no idea.” She climbed on top of him, settling herself in the cradle of his hips, gently, and not at full weight. “You're all right?” 

“Fantastic,” he said emphatically. Blue's smile was wider than he'd seen, big teeth peeking through. 

“I'm going to ride you; you can come when you're ready.” 

“Thank the gods.” He must have been more fervent than he'd thought because she laughed, a bright, cheerful sound that suited her wide chest and mouth. _I hope she laughs often_ , he thought. 

“There _are_ rules. I control the tempo. You can touch me, but only with your stump.” She watched for his response, waiting. He looked down at the empty space where his hand had been. 

“Then I can't make _you_ come.” 

“This isn't about me. Besides, you'd be surprised what a little blunt pressure will do for a clitoris.” Still no mockery, just that humor that stepped beside him, nudging him so he got the joke. She rolled her hips, ass to thigh, and his mouth opened in soundless wonder. “I see we're in agreement.” She grabbed the lube and slicked up his cock, snuck her fingers down between her legs and the trimmed hair at her cunt – darker blonde than the rest of her, curling and wet. 

This time she whimpered, and Jaime's blood went hot. He wanted more of _that_. “Blue,” he whispered and she leaned down, hands on either side of his head, the tip of his cock nestled at the entrance of her cunt. “If it feels good, will you make noise?” 

“Yes,” she promised and then slid down onto him, clutching him with her grasping walls, hot and slippery. Jaime moaned, a deep, primal noise from his gut that rocketed out of him in release. 

His hand – his good hand, the one that worked, that kept him from being completely useless – hovered near her thigh, but she only had to give it a firm look before he reached over his head and pressed it into the wall to anchor himself instead. 

“Very good,” she praised him. “You _do_ listen well.” 

“I'm highly motivated.” He canted his hips up and she gasped. Jaime wanted to touch her, but he kept his stump at his side, nervous about disrupting her hypnotic rhythm, wanting only to see the sweat glistening at her temples and throat, and not the disgust or disappointment that came with his ragged-edged wrist. 

Blue slowed, ran her hands from belly to chest, cupped his cheek and curled her fingers in his hair. “Are you enjoying this?” 

“Gods, yes.” 

“Then why do you look so thoughtful?” She'd stopped moving, but her cunt pulsed around his cock. 

“I can't get out of my head.” She tugged at his short hair. It was easier to keep it like this when shampooing and brushing were harder. 

“Do you need to talk more?” 

“No,” he said, ragged and dismayed. “You feel incredible. I just.” He lifted his stump slightly. “I'm not who I was.” 

“That's all right. I only know who you _are_.” 

Jaime swallowed hard, unable to meet her too-kind eyes. This was supposed to be only a fuck, a chance for someone to boss him around so he could let go for a night. 

Blue carefully brushed her fingers just above where the scarring started on his arm. “May I touch you? Or will it hurt?”

He laughed, dry and without humor. “I truly don't know. No one has, except the nurses. And the last one was months ago.” 

“Oh, Jaime,” she sighed, her fingers curling tenderly around the scarred end of his arm. He shivered. She brought it up and kissed it with soft lips, and the sensation careened through him. “Okay?”

She sounded so worried that he rubbed his hand along her thigh. She didn't tell him to stop. “It's intense. Good. Keep doing it.” 

She did, with the delicate strength of a butterfly at first, then more firmly; her tongue, then her teeth, all with his cock buried deep and aching for more, until he writhed under her ministrations. She blessedly started moving again, dragged his wrist down the flat expanse between her breasts, her belly, to her cunt where she rubbed against it with every sinuous undulation of her body. 

“Yes,” she gasped, her eyes widening like it surprised her. He pressed his hand into the wall and his stump against her clit and held on as she began moving more erratically, harder. He tilted his hips to meet her, drive deeper, as Blue whimpered and moaned, the sound falling like a summer storm. He was anchored by his palm on the cool wall and Blue riding his cock, soaking him and driving him out of his mind with sensation. He needed this, needed _her_ , careful even in her increasingly reckless pleasure, guiding him through the dark like a beacon until he forgot to be ashamed or cocky or anything but himself in his body gone tight with wanting. “Good, Jaime,” she moaned. “Gods, so good. Just like that,” she urged with words and the wet vise of her walls. Lightning shot down his spine, white-hot behind his eyes when he threw his head back and surrendered as she shouted like thunder above him. 

Aftershocks skittered through him as Blue's knees dug into his sides and she jerked and quivered and finally slumped, bracing herself on his shoulders. Her hands were big enough to wrap around them. His hand was big enough to squeeze her thigh. Jaime slid his stump out from between their panting bodies, touched his tongue to the glistening remnants of her. This time he was watching her. 

Her eyes were wide and dark. “How do I taste?” she murmured. 

_Like hope_ , he thought. “Intoxicating,” he said aloud. 

Her cheeks darkened further, and Jaime lifted his brows. Blue lightly smacked his chest and pushed herself up and off of him. He made a regretful noise, until she sank back down next to him, curling over his body, from neck to feet. Cautiously, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she didn't pull away. 

“Is that... it?” he asked hesitantly, though he needed to know. 

Blue pulled her head back to glare at him. “That wasn't good?”

“No! That's not--” She was grinning at him and he poked her in the stomach, making her squeal. “You know what I meant.”

“It's your night,” she said again. “Do you want me to go?”

“No. I want you to stay.” 

“Then I'll stay. What do you want to do?”

He pressed his nose into the curling tendrils of hair at her temple. “Just this,” he said quietly.

She circled her fingers on his chest. “I wish clients would ask me what I like to do.” 

The question from earlier. Jaime cleared his throat. “What do you do in your free time?” 

“I run,” she said, brushing her palm over his nipples. “And I go to the zoo.” 

He burst out in a laugh, but she didn't join him. “You're serious?”

She nodded and he tightened his arm around her and said nothing. This moment felt fragile, and Jaime had always been clumsy even with two hands. He could imagine going to the zoo with her, as terrifying as that was. 

They didn't talk after that, and Jaime's eyes began drifting closed. Blue's fingers ceased their slow circling on his chest. He should at least turn off the lights so they could get decent sleep, but she was laying on the arm with his remaining hand, and he couldn't turn off anything with his stump. “Hey, Blue?” he chanced. 

“Brienne.”

Jaime tilted his head to look at her. She still wasn't moving, but her eyes were open. “What?” 

“My name is Brienne.” 

Jaime's heart thudded hard in his chest, pounding at the bones to get out. “All right. Should I... call you that?” 

He felt her smile against his skin. “I don't know.” 

“Why'd you tell me then?” he huffed, and she lifted up on her elbow to stare down at him.

She shrugged one broad shoulder. “I don't know.” 

“I'm just that good, I guess,” he joked, though his cockiness had been lanced and drained away. 

It earned him an astonishingly epic eye-roll anyway. “Don't make me regret this.” 

“I won't. I swear.” 

_Brienne_ settled against him, but it felt different this time, like she was resting all her weight, not holding it back to protect him. It felt like trust. He pulled her closer, mouthed her name silently into her hair. _Brienne. Brienne._

She nuzzled into the curve of his neck, softly kissed the line of his collarbone. _Brienne._ Later he'd taste her name as she drew it out of him with hands and lips and heat, as she built a space where he felt safe, as he came hard surging over her. 

He left the light on. He didn't want sleep, he wanted her again – and he didn't want her in the dark. They could turn it off later, could talk more after. _Brienne._ He'd ask her her favorite animals and maybe – if he was lucky, if she wanted – he'd find her there someday and say her name in the sunshine. Maybe he could make her laugh. Maybe he could kiss her. 

But for now. For now. 

They had all night.


End file.
